


Angel Bottom

by warriorofculture



Category: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27449569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warriorofculture/pseuds/warriorofculture
Summary: Everyone in the re-named town of Angel Bottom is born with white wings... except for one person
Relationships: SpongeBob SquarePants/Squidward Tentacles
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Angel Bottom

It was another boring day in Angel Bottom. The town once had another name, long ago, but someone, somewhere, got the clever idea to re-name it, thanks to the growing number of people who had… well, wings. They weren’t insect wings or rare fish wings; no, these were white, feathery wings. No one knows how or why they got there, only that anyone born in that town had a pair of wings on their back. After time, the number of citizens who had wings continued to increase, and the town was re-named to Angel Bottom to reflect this. Now, every single resident of Angel Bottom bore wings.

Some chose to use their wings to fly, some accessorised them and some just left them alone. Very few did the latter; it was hard to resist touching the soft white feathers and giving them the best care possible.

Besides him, of course.

He kept his wings firmly folded against his back and hid them under his shirt. If anyone asked about his wings, he’d tell them he was in an accident when he was younger and couldn’t use them anymore.

But he knew the truth.

That morning, he grabbed his work uniform – consisting of a tall white hat with an anchor embroidered in the centre – and headed outside.

“Good morning, Squidward!”

He cringed. He had to hear that obnoxiously cheerful voice every single morning, and it never ceased to irritate him.

He heard a bit of wing-flapping before a yellow sea sponge fluttered into his view. The sponge wore a hat identical to his, and beautiful white wings flapped to keep him several feet off the ground.

“Ready for another fun day at the Krusty Krab?” he grinned.

Squidward rolled his eyes as he started walking. “Only you would find that grease trap ‘fun’, Spongebob.”

Spongebob kept pace alongside him, timing his wing movements to stay even. “Of course it’s fun. By the way, why aren’t you flying to work?”

“You know I can’t use my wings.”

“Oh, right, your accident. Couldn’t you go to physical therapy or something?”

Squidward shook his head. “The damage was too extensive. If I was an adult when it happened, I might have been able to fix it, but alas…” He trailed off, hoping his lie was still convincing.

“Aww.” Spongebob’s eyes shone with tears. “Well, maybe Patrick and I can help—”

“No.”

“What about Sandy? She—”

“No, Spongebob. I’ve already had to adjust to living this way, and I don’t want the risk of making it worse. Please, just mind your own business.”

“Okay…” Spongebob’s tone was unhappy, but he let the matter drop.

Inwardly, Squidward was grateful; he didn’t enjoy lying, but it was better than letting everyone see the truth. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take it if the reality of his wings got out.

* * *

That evening, Squidward sat on his couch in the living room. He’d wanted to get comfortable, but his back itched and his wings ached. He knew leaving them folded under his shirt all day made them stiff.

He blew out a sigh as he stood and headed for the stairs. Most of his shirts weren’t made for wings, but he had a few with slits in the back. He would wear one when he wanted to exercise his wings. He only did so at night, of course; no one would see him that way.

He took one of the slitted shirts as he walked to the bathroom. He removed the shirt he was currently wearing, then pulled on the new one. He turned around to better see himself in the mirror as he helped guide his wings through the slits. He then stretched out his wings and sighed in relief; it really felt much better when they were out. A moment later, he caught sight of his reflection, and his good mood vanished.

Two feathery black wings spread out behind him.

He folded one wing close to him and gently stroked the dark surface. It was just as velvety and soft as everyone else’s wings, but it was jet-black in colour. He could never tell anyone the truth about his wings, as he was a freak for not having white ones.

“A freak…” he muttered sadly as he let go of his wing and exited the bathroom.

Memories of his past crowded into his mind as he made his way to the staircase again. However, instead of returning to the living room, he ascended the stairs until he reached the top. Over his head was a trapdoor leading to the roof. He unlatched the door and climbed outside.

He stood on the roof of his house, gazing out at the rest of Angel Bottom. He thought it was a weird name to give the town, but he pushed that thought out of his mind as he sat on the edge of the roof. He stretched his wings out, feeling the earlier aches easing.

It always astounded him how his wings worked; all it took was a simple thought, and they obeyed. It was just like his hands and feet, though his wings served a different purpose. He sent a thought to his wings, and they slowly moved up and down, ensuring he wouldn’t leave his seat. It wasn’t quite dark yet, and he hoped no one could see him as he exercised his wings.

“Squidward?”

Gasping, he quickly folded his wings against his back and looked around. A few yards away, Spongebob hovered in mid-air.

“Wh- What is it, Spongebob?” he demanded, letting his anger cover his anxiety.

“I thought I’d come by and check on you,” the sea sponge answered. “You’d seemed kind of down today.”

“Y- Yeah, well, I’m fine.”

Spongebob flew closer. “Were those your wings I saw earlier?”

“N- No…” Squidward averted his gaze.

“It sure looked like it to me.”

“Well, it wasn’t. Now leave me—” He gasped a second time as he felt a hand on one of his wings. Spongebob was out of sight.

“I was right.” Spongebob’s voice came from behind him. “These _are_ your wings.”

“Don’t touch them!” Squidward snapped, trying to move away from Spongebob.

“But I wanna see them,” Spongebob protested.

“No, stay awa—” His sentence turned into a scream as he toppled from the roof. He kept screaming as he fell, hoping he wouldn’t be _too_ badly hurt from the impact.

“Squidward!” Spongebob flew as fast as he could.

Black wings flapped, slowing his descent. It gave himself time to turn himself upright as he gently landed on the ground. He stayed silent as Spongebob flew closer; the latter’s eyes were huge as he took in the sight before him.

“Squidward,” he murmured in awe. “Your wings…”

“Yes, they work fine.” Angrily, he folded them against his back.

“B- But they’re…”

“They’re black, I know.”

“Is that why you hide them?”

He averted his gaze again. “Y… You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered.

“I’m willing to listen.”

Squidward returned his attention to Spongebob, who’d landed a short distance away but kept his wings out. He blinked back tears as he gazed at the beautiful white wings before him. Why couldn’t he have been born with white wings, too?

“Squidward?”

He sighed. “Alright, I’ll tell you. But not out here.”

“Do you wanna go to my house?”

Squidward tried not to grimace. He knew his neighbour was being polite, but he still dreaded going to his house. At the same time, he didn’t want Spongebob at his own house, as he knew the sea sponge was prone to both nosiness and clumsiness.

He’d have to go with the lesser of two evils.

“S… Sure,” he managed to reply through gritted teeth.

“Great!” Spongebob grabbed his wrist and took off for his house, using his wings to move faster. Squidward yelped as he was dragged along.

Inside the pineapple house, Spongebob let go of Squidward and gestured to the couch. “Make yourself at home, neighbour.”

Squidward frowned as he sat. “I’m only here to tell you about my wings, that’s all.”

Spongebob smiled. “I know, but let me make some tea first. You had a fright earlier with that fall, and I know tea’s a great way to calm down.” Without waiting for an answer, he flapped his wings to lift himself off the ground and float to the kitchen.

Squidward scoffed. What did Spongebob know about calming down? That sponge was on maximum hyperdrive all the time. All the same, he was also the only one who cared enough about Squidward’s wings to want to know why he hid them.

He pushed down his guilt as Spongebob returned to the living room. “It’ll be a few minutes before the water’s ready, so why don’t you go ahead and start?”

Squidward frowned again. “I don’t…”

Spongebob sat on his recliner, carefully folding his wings. “It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone else. This will stay right here, between the two of us.”

He sighed again. “Well, to begin, as you’ve probably guessed, I was born with these black wings. I don’t know how or why; both my parents have white wings. I never thought anything of it as I was taught to use them. I’d just assumed everyone had white or black wings.

“But I was wrong… so, so wrong.

“When I was old enough for elementary school, I went, of course. But right off the bat, I knew something was amiss. Every student and teacher I saw had white wings. Maybe it was just the majority, I thought. There had to be others like me, right?”

He shook his head. “At first, no one said anything, but I felt their stares. I believe I was in second grade before someone finally spoke up. A kid in my class approached me during lunch and asked why my wings were black. I told him the truth, of course: ‘I don’t know, they were like this when I was born.’ Naturally, he didn’t like that answer, and said, ‘Only a freak would have black wings.’ I tried to protest, but other kids started chanting, ‘He’s a freak, he’s a freak!’ and I… I couldn’t say anything in retaliation.

“Their words hurt me, badly. I’d wanted to tell my parents, but I didn’t want them to worry about me. I had to come up with a plan of action on my own, so I thought and thought of what to do.”

“That’s why you hid your wings?” Spongebob asked.

“Yes. At first, I tried covering them with bandages, but it hurt too much. I wanted to keep them folded, but it’s still obvious my wings aren’t white. That’s when I realised I could fold them against my back and cover them with my shirt. It took several years to get them to lie nearly flat.

“I knew having no visible wings would have people asking about it, so I made up the story about being in an accident. Their sympathy would prevent them from further inquiries. I don’t like having to lie, but I dislike being labelled as a freak even more.” He paused, his gaze on the floor. “So I hide my wings and I lie. I let them out when I’m at home and make sure they get proper exercise. But… But that’s all.”

He was surprised to see a white teacup pushed into his hands, and he took it. The tea inside was a light amber colour and steam rose from its surface.

“So you haven’t tried flying yet?”

Squidward took a tentative sip of tea before answering. The hot beverage was delicious and warmed him from within. He wanted to try to identify the ingredients but knew Spongebob was waiting for an answer.

He took a deep breath. “The last time I flew was when I was in second grade, so I was seven at the time.”

“Don’t you want to fly?”

He shrugged. “I’ve never thought much on it; I’ve been too preoccupied with hiding my wings.”

“But your wings are beautiful, Squidward; how could you think they’re not?”

He looked up and realised Spongebob wasn’t sitting on the recliner, nor was he standing in front of him. An instant later, his eyes widened as he felt hands on his wings.

“Sp- Spongebob, wh- what are you—”

The sea sponge was on the couch beside him, though he was standing as he gently unfolded one of Squidward’s wings. “These really are beautiful,” he insisted, lightly running his fingers along the dark feathers.

Squidward yanked his wing out of his neighbour’s hands. “Quit touching them!” he snapped, hoping Spongebob couldn’t see the warmth in his face.

“But…” Spongebob retracted his hand but kept his gaze on the wings before him.

“…But what?”

“But they really _are_ beautiful.” He lowered himself to sit. “I’ve never seen black wings before, and I—”

“Exactly.” Squidward folded the wing against his back. “Everyone in town has white wings… except for me.” He looked at the teacup in his hands again; he was sure the drink was too cold to drink now, so he set it on the coffee table.

“But that’s a good thing.”

“Huh?” He returned his attention to the sea sponge sitting beside him.

“It’s a good thing,” Spongebob repeated.

“How is it good?”

“Because it makes you unique. That’s something you should celebrate, not hide.”

“What do you mean?”

Spongebob spread his arms wide. “In a town where everyone has the same thing, you don’t. That’s a great thing; it makes you special, unique… _you_.”

Squidward raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t entirely sure what his neighbour and co-worker was getting at. How could it possibly be a _good_ thing to be different?

Spongebob hopped off the couch. “C’mon outside.” He trotted towards the front door.

Squidward, still bewildered, did as he was told, following the sea sponge outside.

The sun had set, plunging Angel Bottom into darkness. Lights shone in the distance, illuminating the town centre, though it wasn’t enough to give them anything to see from their perspective.

“Look up.”

Squidward started at the sound of his neighbour’s voice but did as he was told. Stars twinkled overhead, scattered amongst the sky flowers that always hung above them. It was a beautiful sight; one he’d seen many times before as he exercised his wings whilst sitting on the roof of his house.

But now, standing on the ground and gazing up at the stars, he felt tiny, insignificant.

“Don’t you wish to be closer to the stars?”

Again, Spongebob’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how to respond. Did he want to be up there, amongst the beautiful, silent stars in the night sky?

He heard a light fluttering beside him, and Spongebob soon came into his view. White wings flapped behind him as he smiled at the octopus.

“C’mon, let’s go up there.”

“Wh—”

Spongebob reached down and took hold of Squidward’s hands, then flew up and back. Within moments, Squidward realised he wasn’t standing on the ground, and his wings unfolded and flapped in a panic.

“Slow them down,” Spongebob softly instructed, his wings moving in a steady rhythm. “I won’t let go of you.”

Squidward gulped, then mentally forced his wings to slow their movements. After a short while, they were moving at the same pace as Spongebob’s. He was still scared of being off the ground, but he tried to steady his breathing. Panicking would do no good.

“See? It’s not that bad.”

He looked up at Spongebob, who was giving him a reassuring smile. He took a bit of comfort in the relaxed aura the sea sponge was giving off, feeling safe with the small yellow hands holding his own. Their wings flapped together, keeping them both off the ground.

“Do you know how high up you are?” Spongebob asked.

“Aren’t we just a little off the ground?”

“Nuh-uh.”

Squidward tore his gaze from his neighbour and looked around. Sure enough, they hovered just above the rooftops of their houses; apparently, their wing-flapping lifted them higher whilst Squidward was distracted.

His breathing came faster. They were up rather high, and it was quite a distance to fall back to the ground.

“Ready for me to let go?”

Spongebob’s words caused his panic to return, and his heart hammered in his chest as he frantically shook his head. It was already frightening being so far from the ground; he couldn’t bear to think of the fall if Spongebob let go of his hands.

The sea sponge continued smiling. “Steady your breathing and your wings. I’ll hold onto you until you’re ready.”

Squidward took the time to calm his breathing and wing movement again. He knew he couldn’t stay like this forever; Spongebob would have to let go of his hands eventually.

As the octopus worked on calming himself, Spongebob spoke, his voice still soft. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like to have all those kids making fun of you when you were younger, but you should remember they _were_ kids. They’ll find something to tease you over, whether it’s the colour of your wings or your height or something you might’ve said or done. I’m sure it’s not been easy having the only black wings in town, but I still say it’s something that should be celebrated, not hidden.

“You’re unique, Squidward, and your black wings are a symbol of that uniqueness. It’s good to be different, and I know you’ll go far once you realise that. You just need to have the confidence to know and accept it, as well as the ability to stand up for yourself if anyone tries to bring you down. I know you can do it; I have complete faith in you.”

Squidward was speechless. He knew Spongebob admired him and stuck up for him a lot, but to hear him say something like this… it was astounding. After a moment, he also realised he was at the sea sponge’s eye level; his wings worked to keep him up, so he wasn’t looking up at Spongebob.

He opened his mouth.

Spongebob let go of his hands.

He gasped, waiting for the sensation of falling.

Nothing.

He looked around, realising he was still on the same level as Spongebob, who kept smiling at him.

The sea sponge slowly lifted his hands, palms out. “See? I knew you could do it.”

“I… I am doing it, aren’t I?” Squidward glanced over his shoulder; though it was much harder to see, he could tell his wings were flapping gently, keeping him far from the ground. It was an unusual sensation, since he’d grown used to not flying for many years, but it was also… exciting.

“Mhmm.” Spongebob nodded. “It’s hard to forget how to fly once you learn how to do it; you just gotta get back into the habit.”

Squidward turned his gaze up to the stars. “Do you think we really could reach the stars if we flew high enough?”

“No, but it’s nice to think about.”

“Yeah…” Struck by a sudden urge, Squidward flapped his wings and flew away from his house.

He didn’t know where he was going, only that he wanted to keep flying as long as possible, as far as possible. He’d forgotten the exhilaration that flying had brought him as a child; it felt as though he could go anywhere and everywhere he wanted. All he had to do was send a thought to his wings, and they gave a powerful flap as he put on a burst of speed.

The ground blurred below him as he zipped through the water.

He was flying.

He felt invincible.

He was alone in the world.

No… he wasn’t alone.

“Squidward!”

He slowed down, eventually coming to a halt in mid-air. He hovered, waiting for his neighbour to catch up.

Spongebob slowed as he neared. He hadn’t expected Squidward to take off the way he did, but at least he was able to get him to stop for a moment. The octopus didn’t seem upset, but what caused his sudden flight away?

“Squidward, I—”

Spongebob was cut off as Squidward grabbed his arms and pulled him close. He didn’t have a chance to speak before the octopus leaned down and brought their lips together. At first, he was surprised by the sudden movement, but he soon closed his eyes as he enjoyed the new sensation.

A few moments later, Squidward pulled back. His expression was unreadable for a few seconds before shock took over. “Wh… What did I…”

Spongebob, feeling light-headed at the wave of emotions that came over him, smiled. “You just had your first mid-air kiss,” he replied.

Squidward’s eyes widened as he realised he was still holding Spongebob’s arms. His gaze drifted up to the sea sponge, who was still smiling at him, though he could tell there were new emotions behind that expression and those eyes that held his gaze. He felt his pulse speeding up again as he recalled what he’d just done and knowing, deep within his heart, that he greatly enjoyed it.

In fact, he wanted to do it again.

“Sp… Spongebob…”

“Yes, Squidward?”

“I- I… I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me tonight. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be flying again… we wouldn’t be here, right now.”

“It’s no problem; I didn’t want you to be ashamed for something you can’t help. Besides, I still think your wings are beautiful.”

He found himself smiling as he drew Spongebob close to him again. “No, Spongebob… _you’re_ beautiful.”

This time, Spongebob didn’t try to reply as he kissed Squidward again.

He knew Squidward would hide his black wings no longer.

**Author's Note:**

> I've drawn a couple pictures related to this story, have a look:  
> [This one](https://twitter.com/spongebob2600/status/1302516612680110080) is from the scene where squidward's on the roof of his house  
> [This one](https://twitter.com/spongebob2600/status/1297422963231338500) isn't from any particular point but conveys the feel of the latter part of the story
> 
> * * *
> 
> I also received this very lovely fanart from [saito_burrito](http://twitter.com/saito_burrito) on Twitter, have a look [here](https://twitter.com/saito_burrito/status/1331665675132284929)


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